Pages

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Remembering 22nd February

WARNING: This post may be emotional for some and contains images of a natural disaster

This
week I have been thinking a lot about how much my experience of life
has changed in the last year and a half. A few nights ago I read this wonderful post on Deb's blog, collapsed into husband's arms and cried
for a long time with the realisation that it has been a year, I am on
the other side of the world and yet a shiver still goes down my spine
when a train or heavy truck goes by near our apartment. On the 22nd
of February I will be on the Eurostar heading to the UK, but in the
lead up to the one year anniversary of the Canterbury Earthquake the
people of Christchurch are being encouraged to share their stories
and reflect upon the year that has been. This is mine.

At
4.35am on the morning of September 4th 2010 I was tucked
up in bed in the 8 bedroom villa I shared with 5 others at
university. Our term break had just started, so my flatmates had all
gone home for the holidays, apart from me (I had essays to finish and
needed access to the university library) and one other. I was jolted
awake with the sudden realisation that the world was shaking, HARD.
New Zealand is an earthquake prone country and everyone knows that if
one happens you get to a doorframe or under a bed, even though
Christchurch wasn't known to be on a faultline. But if you're in one
of that size, you quickly realise that it is easier said than done.
The shaking was so hard that I couldn't move, so I pulled the
blankets up over my head with a vague half-formed hope that that
would help if the heavy corkboard on my wall fell down on top of me.
It seemed to go on forever – now I know it was only 40 seconds
long.

Damage in my university library. It remained closed for almost a year following the September quakes. Source

When
it finally stopped I picked up my cellphone and called my boyfriends
(now hubby) French cellphone number. Thankfully I got through and
managed to tell him that there had been an earthquake, it felt very
big, but I was ok. I feel grateful in retrospect that that was my
first instinct, because in the first aftershock phone networks went
down and I was unable to get hold of him again for almost 10 hours.
Then I moved to my bedroom doorframe, just in time for the first
large aftershock and the many that followed in quick succession. In
between shaking my flatmate (whose room was downstairs and at the
other end of the house) and I managed to communicate to each other
that we were both ok. He told me not to come downstairs, because the
kitchen floor was covered in broken glass. So I sat in my room until
daylight, until we could survey the damage together and start
cleaning up the mess. Later that day I slowly drove the hours drive
to my parents home over broken, mostly empty and still shaking roads.
That first quake, the first earthquake I had ever been in and the
first major New Zealand earthquake in my lifetime, was a 7.1 –
larger than the earthquake in Haiti the same year. Luckily, as it
occurred in the middle of the night when there was no-one on the
streets or in offices, and as it was centered a fair way out of the
city, there were no casualties. I stayed with my parents until
University reopened, almost a month later.

By
February 22nd we were used to earthquakes. The aftershocks
were pretty constant, ranging from the high 5's to low 2's, averaging
maybe 4 a day that you could physically feel rattle through your
bones. I had moved, to a little 3 bedroom unit I shared with two
others in another part of town, and had become practised at making a
flying leap to a doorframe. At 12.51pm I was lying on my bed, having
just come home from my morning classes. When this one struck it
immediately felt different, savage. It moved differently, to this day
I don't know how to describe it. I jumped from my bed to the
doorframe just in time, as my bookcase came tumbling down a second
later, sending heavy books flying all over the room. My flatmate was
in her doorframe right next to mine, our other flatmate was at
university. I heard our big bathroom mirror fall and smash downstairs
and I prayed that the mezzanine we were standing on wouldn't
collapse. When it stopped I turned to my flatmate and said, knowing
already that it would be the truth, that 'this time there are going
to be people who are dead.'

We
carefully moved downstairs and realised quickly that we were lucky.
Our power and internet were still working, though the phoneline was
down, and there was no major damage to the house that we could see.
We checked outside, realising very quickly that there must be sewage
pipes burst nearby. We were scared though. There is something very
deeply frightening about a city immediately after a disaster –
everything is dead silent, there is no birdsong or human noise except
for car alarms that have been set off by the shaking. Once again, I
very quickly got hold of my boyfriend to tell him I was safe. As our
internet was still on, he got out of bed and came onto skype. He
would stay on skype with me for the next 5 hours. He rang my mother
to tell her I was safe, as my cellphone was down. She told him that
my father had meetings in the central city that day and that she
hadn't been able to get hold of him. I switched on the TV, to be met
firstly by static and then by raw footage that was being taken by
reporters as they ventured out of their central city offices. That 15
minutes of footage before reporters in Auckland took over was
horrific. There are images from it that haunt me to this day, and the
footage in its unedited form was never shown again. My other flatmate
and a good friend arrived home, having being released from the
evacuated university and walking home to see that we were safe.

A boulder ran straight through this house as it came down off the Port Hills. Source

We
stayed there together, trying to bolster each others spirits and get
hold of our families as we sat in doorframes and under the staircase!
At the same time we stayed glued to the television as it became
obvious that my prediction had been right, people had died, and that
the city I had known and loved all my life had been destroyed. Soon
it became established that my dad had already left the central city
by the time the quake hit, and that he was safe and had started to
drive home. Once we got hold of him he turned around so that he could
come and take us away, as I was in no state to drive. It took him 4
hours to reach us, a drive that would usually take 20 minutes. We
left Christchurch, joining a steady stream of cars trying to get as
far away as possible. The only thing heading towards the city was the
army, truck after truck after truck.

The Canterbury Television Building. 115 people died here on Feb 22nd. Source

Our
family had been meant to go on holiday the day after. We decided to
go despite of what had happened. We went hours away and for days did
not turn on a TV or a radio. I couldn't even bear the thought of
looking. When we came back, we found that the 22nd of
February 2011 earthquake had been a 6.3, but far closer to the city. 185 people lost their lives, of over 20 different nationalities.

It's
funny what you can get used too. I got used to taking my classes in a
tent on the university carpark. I got used to diving under the
staircase in our lounge. I got so used to the ground shaking that
just before I left Christchurch there was a magnitude 4 when I was
topping up my car at a petrol station and I only realised because I
saw that my car was moving. I didn't get used to the central city
being closed. I didn't really get used to the prefab buildings they
eventually put up on the university sportsfield so we could move out
of tents. Sometimes it felt more than surreal. Like when I was in my
final history exam and there was a 3.5 and no-one even looked up from
their work.

In
the 13th of June 2011 earthquakes I was in a major mall.
That one rates as the scariest moment of my life. I am a person who
doesn't get along with loud noises, and the sound of so many things
breaking all at once is haunting. In the 23 December 2011 earthquakes
I was in the UK. I thanked God that I wasn't there.

I
am lucky. I survived, as did my family and friends. I have many
friends that lost their homes, either to earthquake damage or
liquefaction. A friend of my parents lost his life – I only knew
him by name. I stayed in Christchurch until it was naturally time to
move on, clinging to the memory of a city that in the form I knew it
in was no longer there, to stubborn to flee like many others did.
Part of me feels guilty for leaving, even though it was time, and
part of me is thankful every day that I am no longer there. There
have been over 10,000 aftershocks since 4th September
2010. More that Haiti. More than Japan. I am lucky. Sometimes I am
still afraid. More than anything I am thankful, and overwhelmed by
the magnitude of God.

Some of the 4000 handmade hearts sent to Christchurch in the wake of the quakes. Source

I went to a seminar recently presented by a firm who provide psychological support services - they said prior to the Christchurch earthquakes the number of people who came to them for trauma related support was 1%. After the earthquakes that jumped to 32%. No wonder when we read stories like yours.

I remember some of that footage, like the woman on the top of the building, the injured lying on grass and people emerging from the rubble. It hadn't occurred to me that, that footage has never been replayed.

I love that your DH spent 5 hours on Skype with you during the quakes. That must have been comforting. Thank goodness for technology!! :-)

Ahhh Sarah *huuuuuuugs* I remember hubby telling me about when when it happened and we watched and listened in horror at every new update. It was a helpless feeling to see all that happening and not being able to do anything about it but hope and pray that people will be safe.

I'm so sorry you went through all that. I'd glad to hear that you dad got out safe and sound.

Sarah for some reason I missed this post first time round, and only caught up with "your" story when you mentioned it on the next post. DH & I have visited Christchurch twice in the last 5 years, and it was one of the most heart-wrenching days to watch from the UK while such a beautiful city centre was destroyed by a natural disaster which could not be avoided. I am sure that the memories of the day will fade after time - never to be forgotten, but perhaps not to be so raw and painful. I have read a few blogs which mentioned their reactions to the day - and all who survived are grateful. I know many people lost their life, and my heart goes out to those families; but you now have a new life and your family are all around you. LOOK FORWARD TO THE FUTURE! With love

Connect with Me

I'm Sarah. I'm a small town Kiwi girl adjusting to life smack bang in the middle of the Midlands, UK. Most of the time you'll find me in the library by day, crafting by night. Here you'll find my everyday adventures, alongside embroidery, knitting, crochet, sewing, dress making and much much more.

Recently I've been taking a step back from blogging - life calls! So until the bug hits again, this space has become more of a straight-out diary for my crafting life. But still, have a look around, I'm glad to have you here